


The Queen and the Wanderer

by FreshBrains



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Alchemy, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, F/F, Gen, Magic, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 11:12:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1302781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah is traveling to her home village when she sees a knight drown herself in the river.  Then there's the queen, the courtesan, the demon-woman, and the alchemist, and they all must figure out why the kingdom is overrun with women who all bear the same face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Queen and the Wanderer

**Author's Note:**

> So, basically, High Fantasy _Orphan Black_ with a ProPunk twist. Bet you never saw that one coming.

Sarah cut through the forest on her way back to the kingdom. 

It wasn’t the wisest route, nor the easiest, but she was already travel-weary and stank of the dark earth.  She needed a meandering route, something slow and green, something that would take her mind off the task at hand.  Her water skin was still full and she was able to wash her soiled dress and bodice in the cool river—she hoped she could look halfway presentable when she knocked on Mrs. S’s door.

            Felix sent her a message a fortnight prior saying he’d meet her at their old tavern in the village, the one they visited at night instead of being snug in their beds with the other orphans.  He was working there for a bit while entertaining the more adventurous knights in their bedchambers, a task he both loathed and enjoyed in equal measure. 

            _Do not bring that Neanderthal man of yours,_ his letter read in his usual scrawling script.  _I’ll not have him in my quarters._   He wouldn’t have to worry about that—Sarah left Vic in his own village, still stinking of ale and smoke.

            By nightfall, Sarah was finally ready to be back in her village—not her home village, not the one across the water, but the one where she spent most of her childhood days.  It was small and sometimes poor if the crops were bad, and sometimes the drunks weren’t so nice, and sometimes Mrs. S wouldn’t open the door for her, but there was one thing in the village she could no longer live without.

            A sound came from near the rushing, dark river, across the tree line but loud enough to make Sarah halt her step on the damp earth. 

            It was a woman crying.

            Sarah ducked behind the brush and watched the woman at the river through the tangled branches.  Sarah couldn’t see much in the dark, but she could make out the glint of armor in the moonlight—the woman was a knight, a sworn protector of the kingdom.

            But her crying was deep with sorrow.

            Sarah kept her distance and watched the woman remove her helmet and lay it in the dirt of the riverbank.  The waters were wild that night, the banks swollen from recent rains, and it was dangerous to be so close to the river at such a time.  But the woman seemed ready, unafraid.  A brave warrior.  She paused for a moment, removing her sword from its scabbard and laying it next to her helmet.  Then she bent to look at herself in the water, her long hair spilling into the current.

            Sarah leaned forward a bit, trying to get a closer look, and a branch snapped beneath the pressure of her knee.  The woman looked up, startled, and in the stark moonlight, Sarah saw her own face looking back at her.

            Before a word could be uttered, before Sarah could calm her racing heart, the warrior woman turned back to the river and fell into the rushing water, her heavy armor sinking her like a stone.


End file.
